Warning: Yaoi/boy-on-boy
Pairings: Tony StarkXSteve Rogers
Story: Tony could barely believe this was happening. They were supposed to raise their son, grow old together, and then sit on the porch telling stories to their grand kids. And now, that might never happen.
Disclaimer:All Characters (c) Marvel

"Dad?"

The whisper didn't make it through to Tony, he just sat on their bed, staring at nothing, eyes glazed over and wishing that he was dreaming. He didn't see his, their, son, standing in the doorway with a suitcase next to him. Auntie Pepper had come by yesterday when the news came and told Peter she wanted him to come live with her for a while.

"Dad?"

Tony looked up at his son. He smiled sadly, opening his arms up. Peter ran to him, the nine-year-old collapsing in his daddy's arms, sobbing into his chest, holding Tony tightly. Tony could only smile as he rubbed his son's back, stroking his hair and hoping.

"Please don't make me leave, dad..."

"Pete," Tony pushed his son away only slightly, still stroking his hair. "Auntie Pepper is going to be good to you. I can't take care of you, not the way you need, Peter. I love you so much. So does your father. But I have to make arrangements, and I know you will be safer with your Auntie than with me. I will call you every night to read your bedtime stories, and I'll visit every chance I get."

Peter nodded, his bottom lip wobbling. He tried to hold back his tears.

"Oh, Peter," Tony pulled his son to him again. "You can cry. Strong men cry when they need to. Stronger men know when they need to be held when they cry."

Pepper arrived five minutes later, taking away a still tearful Peter and leaving Tony to his mourning. It was too early for mourning, Tony kept telling himself. Steve wasn't dead yet... But Tony wasn't willing to bet on that 'yet'.

With a sigh, Tony stood. He showered, barely even realizing what he was doing. He pulled on his regular clothes, and a jacket, because it was winter and cold outside and Steve would nag him if he didn't put on his jacket... Or, he would have nagged him, if he could.

Tony walked into the garage, picking his cheapest car. It was a silver prius, Steve had insisted upon it, saying it drew less attention to them. Tony was so glad he had allowed Steve to get him to buy the car, because he really didn't want the press following him and asking what he would do about Steve, what he was feeling after... Tony sighed and drove to the hospital.

The staff remained quiet as he walked by the front desk, going to the room that he knew Steve was currently trapped in. He paused by the white door. It was a private room, Tony had made sure to have a fit and saying he would pay any amount to make sure Steve was as comfortable as possible, and make sure no one with ulterior motives could take advantage of Captain America.

It took a while until he opened the door. And there he was. Tony could barely hold in the sob that tried to escape his throat. He quickly shut the door behind him before rushing to Steve's side. The plain chair he pulled up he barely noticed, instead grasping his husbands limp hand.

"God, Steve..." Tony whispered. The first time he had entered the room, he had run out after a few seconds. He couldn't stand looking at Steve like that... But now it had been two days and Tony was back and laying his head against Steve's side. "You need to get better... you need to prove everyone wrong. Please... Peter and I can't do this without you..."

Looking at Steve now, Tony knew he would never wake up. He had been shot in the head. His right eye was gone and part of his brain, but he was still breathing and healing at an amazing rate, and Tony just prayed with all his might that Steve would beat the odds and re-grow his brain because Steve was amazing and if anyone could do it, he could!

"Pepper took Peter today. She knows me too well. She knows that I can't take care of him right now, not with you lying here. The team has been trying to cheer me up. Bruce keeps saying anything is possible with you. You did survive in ice for seventy years." Tony smiled at that, running his thumb over the top of Steve's hand. "I've been sleeping, and eating. I can't stop seeing you nagging me whenever I do something you don't like."

Tony closed his eyes and buried his face into Steve's side. "I miss you, idiot," he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to denying the fact that he was wetting Steve's sheet with tears. "I really want you to come home. Pete wants you to come home, too. We want you back. So you have to get better and you have to come back."

Tony organized the spice rack once again, because he never could seem to remember where he placed everything. Peter giggled from where he sat at the counter. Tony turned to give the ten-year-old a mock glare.

"Yeah, laugh little mister! You can't even make cereal right," Tony laughed. Peter just pouted before sticking his tongue out. "Okay, what do you want for lunch? Grilled cheese?" Peter shook his head.

"Let's have burgers! We could go to that new place!" Peter said excitedly.

"Alright, alright!" Tony acquiesced. "Go get a jacket, and don't argue! It's windy outside and I don't want to hear you complaining later!"

Peter jumped off his seat before he ran to his room. Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair. It had been a year since Steve's shooting, and although Steve had healed completely, even his brain... he hadn't woken up. Bruce and Pepper had begun to talk to Tony about pulling the plug. Tony refused to even think about that.

He and Peter were doing okay, they visited Steve every Saturday together, while Tony secretly visited Steve every week day while Pete was at school. He talked to Steve constantly, telling him the latest news, and about how much Peter had grown and how Tony hadn't touched a drop of alcohol in ten months because he wanted to be sober when Steve woke up.

Because he was going to wake up.

No matter what anyone else said.

Peter and Tony made their way to the burger joint just down the block, laughing and joking as they ordered their meals. Peter liked to have way too much hot sauce on his, while Tony enjoyed a bacon burger, because let's face it: bacon makes everything better.

But when Tony's phone rang and it was from the hospital, he knew there was something up. The hospital didn't call him on his cell phone, they barely called at his home phone. "Hang on, Pete," Tony muttered, picking up his cell. Peter rolled his eyes, just munching on his burger until he heard a loud clatter. His eyes shot up to see his dad staring at him, eyes wide and cell phone dropped on the table.

"Dad?" He asked nervously. "What happened?"

"Check!" Tony suddenly shouted, motioning to the waiter. The man came trotting over, stunned when Tony thrust a hundred into his hands, grabbing his things and Peter and running out of the restaurant.

"Dad!" Peter exclaimed as he was dragged into the street, his dad waving frantically for a taxi. "What happened?! Is something wrong with father?!" When Tony turned to look at him, tears in his eyes and a wide smile across his face, Peter realized what had happened. "Taxi!" Peter screamed.

They held each other tightly as the taxi flew to the hospital, and hastily gave the driver some money before running into the hospital. They ignored the exclamations about no running, instead only stopping when they reached Steve's door.

"Peter, stay out here for a sec," Tony murmured, rubbing his son's arm. "Give me a second with him."

Peter nodded, giving his dad room to open the door and enter. Tony gave Peter a small smile before closing the door.

Tony took a breath before he turned. Steve was sitting there on his bed, smiling at him like nothing had happened. His right eye was a light shade of blue than his left, and was unseeing now, but... Tony let out a cry and rushed forward, throwing his arms around Steve and sobbing into his chest. Steve just kept smiling, holding Tony tightly and stroking his hair as Tony cried.

"You bastard!" Tony cried. "I thought you were never going to wake up! It's been a year damn it! A year..." Tony faded out, just holding tightly to Steve until he finally stopped crying.

Steve gently tilted his head up and claimed his lips softly. Tony kissed back with desperation to prove that Steve was really here, he was awake and kissing him and, god, Tony wanted to strip him down and ride this man like there was no tomorrow. But Peter was waiting outside and he didn't really want his son to come in and see his parents fucking.

Tony reluctantly pulled away, to just crawl up on Steve's bed and curling up next to him. Steve chuckled and wrapped his arms around his husband, still running his fingers through Tony's brunette hair.

"I missed you..." Tony muttered, tightening his hold on Steve's clothes.

"I know," Steve murmured, pressing a soft kiss to Tony's hair. "And I'm sorry I was asleep for so long. I should have woken up earlier, if I had known what I was missing... I love you, Tony."

"I love you, too, asshole."

A/N: I literally had no clue how to end this. So I left it there. Woohoo!

So, I've got other stories I'm working on, but I'm kinda worn out right now. Having stomach issues, gotta go in to see the doctor. But I'm still thinking of you, my fabulous viewers! Here is your special story. Angst. I love angst. I really, really do. Yay!